


My Husband's Lovers

by Veul_McLannon



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Roundworld!AU, modern!AU, two men and five dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 03:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veul_McLannon/pseuds/Veul_McLannon
Summary: Slice of life modern AU where Vetinari is the dog equivalent of a crazy cat lady (which is basically canon anyway), is a librarian, and has a lovely husband who works in the civil service.(The dogs all have somewhat... familiar names.)





	My Husband's Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to Carl Kahler’s painting of similar name, “My Wife’s Lovers”, featuring twenty-something lovingly painted cats. Nothing is mine, as usual~

Havelock Vetinari let himself into the house at about six, the absence of any response making him twist his lips in disapproval. His husband was working far too late these days; he would have to have stern Words (as a librarian, such things were not to be taken lightly, and generally entailed the receiver of such Words obeying his wishes).

He made his way to the kitchen and turned the oven on, put the kettle on to boil, then set about arranging dinner for their various canine residents, whose sitter he had met coming up the path. There was a clack-clacking of excited claws on polished wood, and a brownish-grey, scruffy little dog rounded the corner, bringing with it its latest discovery from the garden – today an old deflated ball which had been, for all intents and purposes, lost last winter.

The wiry terrier set the gift at his master’s feet and barked twice, a piercing sound guaranteed to draw attention.

“Enough of your lip, Vimes,” he remarked sagely, continuing to dole out food. The terrier’s tail wagged so hard it threatened to knock a hole in the wall.

Attracted by both the smell of food and the sound of voices, a tiny golden Pomeranian and a pug (one of the modern, healthier ones; Vetinari had many vices, but cruelty to animals was not one of them) careened around the corner like cannonballs of especially singleminded fluff. They had been named, in his husband’s infinite wisdom, Moist and Mr Fusspot respectively.

He had nearly finished portioning out everyone’s food when a much older terrier poked its head around the kitchen door and – there was no other word for it – _wuffled_ inquisitively. The poor old thing never really seemed to understand the concept of dinnertime these days. This dog he had had for the longest time – well before marriage was even a possibility, never mind on the agenda. His name was, predictably enough, Wuffles.

By this point the other three dogs had worked themselves into something of a frenzy, and were doing their damndest to try and climb his trousers to reach the bowls he juggled in his hands.

“ _Behave_ , the lot of you,” he said sternly, setting each bowl down far enough apart that everyone could (theoretically) tell whose food was whose. Wuffles glared at his meal suspiciously for some considerable time, before wolfing it with all the enthusiasm he usually displayed. Vetinari sat down in the middle of the dogs and patted him on the head. “Good boy.”

“ _Who’s_ a good boy?!” came the light-hearted response from the front hall. He hadn’t even heard the door opening; what was Rufus playing at? Trying to catch him out in his own home talking to dogs. As if the man didn’t already have enough embarrassing stories for family gatherings.

“Certainly not _you_ ,” Vetinari replied, raising his voice just enough to be heard.

“Aww,” Rufus appeared in the kitchen door, pouting, “And there I thought you would be so pleased that I‘d seen fit to take Rufus for a walk as I got home early.”

A borzoi insinuated its not-inconsiderable nose around the corner into the kitchen, smelling food, and whined.

“Needy little thing, isn’t he?” Vetinari smirked from the floor, separating Vimes and Moist from their scrap over Mr Fusspot’s meal.

The appealing pout vanished. “I will never forgive you for naming a dog after me, Havelock,” Rufus growled.

“In my defence, my dear, as well you know, at the point of acquisition, human Rufus was still very much on the periphery. I needed dog Rufus to catch your attention.”

“You’d already _caught_ it, idiot man. And now we have to deal with the _extremely_ inconvenient consequences of naming something that comes when it’s called after your _husband_.”

There was brief silence, then his mouth dropped open as he realised what he had just said. Vetinari, still on the floor, was making a terrible job of hiding a grin behind a hand, watching Rufus’ face grow incrementally pinker by the second.

“Shut up,” Rufus muttered, and stepped over him on the way to the final bowl, which he set daintily in front of the last dog, before unceremoniously plonking himself down in the middle of the increasing pile of bodies and wrapping arms around the other man’s waist.

“I took him for a walk... can I at least have a kiss for a reward?” he asked coyly, batting ridiculously long eyelashes at his husband.

“Not in front of the children!” Vetinari pretended to be scandalised, an act spoiled somewhat by the smirk still plastered across his face. He rose elegantly to his feet and offered Rufus a hand, which he grudgingly accepted amidst mutters of “just bloody well got down here”, and “ungrateful  bastard”.

Havelock made a show of checking that all the dogs were happily munching (or scuffling, in the case of Moist and Vimes), before pulling Rufus towards him and kissing him softly, still smiling a little.

“I’m glad you’re home, Rufus,” he murmured against his lips. “We’ve missed you.”

A wry smile. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know Moist should probably have been a Doberman, as they’re closest to Lipwigzers, but Moist? A /Doberman/?? Don’t make me laugh, he’s a tiny golden ball of fluff and we all know it~   
> Hope you enjoyed this ridiculous excuse to give Vetinari /almost/ enough dogs! If you liked it I live for comments! ;3


End file.
